


Ocean Eyes

by ElizabethMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, photographer lizzie and writer hope, very close friends or more au, written from hope's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-02-07 13:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethMikaelson/pseuds/ElizabethMikaelson
Summary: Our connection and our relationship were like two magnets, you could place them to two different places, but when they would be close, their meeting was inevitable. Because Lizzie could be miles away from me, but I always knew, we always knew, that she would come back to me.also known as:Hope is a writer and she can't stop writing about Lizzie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> found this series in my folders and so thank my ex crush for making me try a new style aka this. i hope you all enjoy this story and that you please tell me if you enjoy it with kudos and comments!

The sun was just setting when I saw her. We had agreed to meet up for some days by now, the idea coming up during a late night conversation. Summer had been busy for us, me with writing around the city, and Lizzie being busy freelancing around the world.

  
  


I wrote a lot that summer. Wrote about sunsets, about the birds who would fly away from the people walking on the streets and those who would rest on a rock, eyes set on the sea. Once I spent all of my evening at the main park writing a love story based on a girl who waited hours on the bus station close to that park, only because I let my imagination do its job. Maybe she was waiting for a family member, maybe for her significant other or friend who she had gone a time without seeing- who knew? But a new story was finished as the sun rose, a story which would probably be read a thousand times and changed twice as much until I posted it on my blog.

  
  


Lizzie smiles when she sees me. Her skin looks tanned, a beautiful tan which reminds me of how milk looks after you add a sprinkle of melted chocolate and sugar. But, well, she would look beautiful no matter what, a fact which only made me appreciate her more. We hugged like the good friends we are and started walking to our usual sitting spot.

  
  


She tells me about what she had seen. I knew that ever since we finished university, her job as a photographer would make her travel a lot, something which she enjoyed dearly. And just as I knew why she loved photography, she knew I loved hearing about places where I haven’t been before.

  
  


Her eyes glint from the rays of the now-setting sun and the joy in her tales. She had been in Tuscany this time, a beautiful place in the countryside of Italy. I take in Lizzie’s description of beautiful blue days and starry night skies. She doesn’t seem surprised when I take out my laptop, knowing I was hearing every word she said as I wrote.

  
  


I hear her talk about the woods. How she had never felt that close to nature before (that was the same thing she had said back when she had returned from the Blue Ridge Mountains) and how her pictures she took seemed to be alive and almost reflected the same peacefulness she had felt when she had been there and taking it all in.

  
  


Lizzie talks and I sometimes ask questions about details of her travels. That makes her smile, knowing I haven’t lost my ability to listen to her but also write at the same time. It had been like this since our high school times. Back then it had been me, with a notebook and pen on my hand leaning against the wall and her with her smile and words. That was how we had built our chemistry, our friendship.

  
  


Meanwhile, the sun had just set. I motioned with my head towards it. Lizzie doesn’t reply as she raises her camera, which always hung around her neck. She lowers it and I steal a look at the small screen; as always she had captured it in a breathtaking way, the rays reflecting on the buildings around the park and on the small lake before us.

 

 

As she turned the camera off, I saw our reflection on its black screen. Her, with her small smile which always leaned more towards being a smirk and blonde hair and me, with my red hair and beaming grin directed at her.

 

 

As if she’s reading my mind, she turns towards me, and I find myself wanting to look somewhere beside her deep blue eyes. If the lights hit them just right, they shone like the ocean, making the black specks in them contrast with the light color. Other times, when she would wear her glasses and not contact lenses, and the shadow of the glasses would fall just right, it made her eyes look dark, giving them that mysterious look which often made me fall into my thoughts or even look away when she would direct that gaze onto me.

  
  


Lizzie looks away from me, but she leans her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes. I don’t ask her why or talk more, just move my head to kiss her hair and then continue writing. Silence falls upon us, but not an uncomfortable one. This had been one of the reasons why even back in our teenage days, I loved her company. We didn’t have to talk more than necessary, the silence filled by the comfort only someone close can give you.

  
  


As I write, Lizzie opens her eyes and reads a few lines. She smiles and points to where I was writing about her. Lizzie never minded when I would write about her, but rather would tease me and sometimes even help me. I smile when I remember the time she called me at 3 am only to say my description of her life was shittier than my first essay on our school book. And she didn’t close the phone until 5, spending her time looking at my focused face as I wrote.

  
  


Lizzie says her eyes aren’t like the ocean, but I smile and reply with a simple _get a goddamn mirror and don’t go against my written truth._

  
  


The only reply I get is a rolling of eyes, which does nothing to stop me from writing. Lizzie doesn’t talk much after that, only stares and sometimes points to where I would make a grammar mistake. It doesn’t surprise her, or shock her, that as she talked about the sunsets and romantic songs of Italy I had written about how I wanted nothing more than to dance with her until late at night with the damn stars hanging on the sky like our only lighting and those damned Italian songs on the background, which I had years without hearing but which had accompanied her during her time there.

  
  


The sky changes from orange and violet and red to its normal blue, a blue which makes the lake look like a hole in a ground (a hole which would probably swallow us whole in a deepness not seen before, and as I write it down Lizzie teases about my deepness being deeper). A blue which gives enough light to make her look like a shadow or a model, ready for me to write countless lines for her- a deep contrast to my casual look of pants and a white shirt with a blazer.

  
  


The temperature starts dropping as time passes. I move to take off my blazer without any prompting, giving it to Lizzie who wears it with a smirk and accompanied by her usual comment about how good my clothes looked on her.

  
  


I get a call from Penelope, telling me that there was a writers-only event close by which I absolutely had to attend, even though she knew I hated those type of things. Lizzie smiles and gets up, standing before me as I close my laptop and place it in my bag, which I easily throw on my shoulder.

  
  


We don’t say goodbye, even though we both know Lizzie would be traveling to Germany after three hours to photograph its beautiful nature. She hugs me close and only tells me to take care of myself and that she would miss me, maybe even more than I would miss her.  

  
  


But I smiled and only left a light kiss on her neck, glad of our drastic height difference. I also tell her to take care and experience everything as much as she could, to fully enjoy the moment and take a deep breath and appreciate where she was and to live her dream.

  
  


I turn to leave then, my blazer still on her shoulders and even if my eyes were looking forward, my heart hadn’t stopped looking at Lizzie. Because even if we talked every day and night, even if we were as close as two people could be, and even if I tried to keep her as close as I could by writing about her, we still would be away from each other, miles separating us.

  
  


So, when I stop to look back, I smile when I see Lizzie still looking at me, her signature smirk on her lips and her hands gripping the blazer. And with the light of the moon upon her, she looked like an hours-long meeting with a writer between two flights, and a love which had no limit or label.

  
  


We stood there, I, a writer who lived alone and was always accompanied by my laptop, and her, a photographer who took pictures in an attempt to try and find a way to freeze a moment and live in it. And just as I had predicted, she lifted her camera and took a picture of me, with London’s buildings behind me and the trees surrounding me.

  
  


And like that, we smiled at each other one last time and turned to leave, for real this time. Me towards my apartment to get ready for the event, and her towards her hotel room to get ready to catch her flight towards Germany.

  
  


Our connection and our relationship were like two magnets, you could place them to two different places, but when they would be close, their meeting was inevitable. Because Lizzie could be miles away from me, but I always knew, _we_ always knew, that she would come back to me.

  
  


And as for me? I would always be here, waiting for her return.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u enjoy this second chapter and please show the love with comments or kudos!! they mean a lot to me!

Lizzie always calls late. Something which at first, back when she had just started traveling, bothered me plenty. But as time passed and time zones continued changing once every three months, my sleeping schedule changed to match with the times where I knew she wouldn’t call me.

  
  
  
  


Tonight she calls around 3 am. I had been busy, a date with Landon who wanted for us to maybe be more, but I hadn’t paid it much mind, only left him with a friendly smile and towards an empty house. Then it had been writing about my newest inspiration, the story of a bird which I had seen flying every night to my balcony, leaving small branches or leaves here and there. I knew he was building his nest, the third year in a row, but tonight it had given me the inspiration to write and who was I to deny the writing gods?

  
  
  
  


Just as I started reading it for the second time, Lizzie calls and I don’t hesitate to pick up. I smile when I see her face, a cap on her head and from what I could see, trees around her. Knowing my questions before I even ask them, Lizzie tells me she is in the woods near a small town in America. I ask about the weather, and she immediately tells me how it rained two hours ago but now it was just cloudy, the perfect weather for her to explore and take pictures without a care in the world.

  
  
  
  


Lizzie throws out a line on how it matches her mood from not seeing me since three days ago, something which makes me laugh a bit and admit that yes, the weather here in London had been shitty too and yes, it probably had something to do with her not being beside me.

  
  
  


She shows me the view through the camera, and I look at the trees and fields around her, something which makes an awestruck, open-mouthed grin appear on my face. Like Lizzie, I loved nature and how it made me feel alive. I would also travel sometimes for holidays, but for now, I was stuck in the city with many events to attend and shows to be at. The camera changes back to her and Lizzie asks me how my day went.   
  
  
  


I tell her about the elementary school I visited, then the charity event and, finally, the date, which makes her roll her eyes. I smirk at her and Lizzie easily tells me that no date could ever be good enough for me, especially with someone who didn’t share even half of the views I had about life.

  
  
  


That piques my interest, so I, of course, ask her how she knows. Her smile reminds me of a time back during our college years. I had asked her how she had known what my favorite genre of music was. Lizzie had only smiled and told me she knew me well enough, closing the argument with a smooth wink.

  
  
  


Lizzie smiles at me and I see as she moves to sit better against the rock, asking me questions after she finds a comfortable position. Did he know why black and blue were my favorite color? Why I sometimes understood French easier than German? Why I hated loud music when I wrote but I could easily hear other people talk? Or that I despised not wearing socks because it made me sweat more than normal?

  
  
  


I laugh softly at her questions and tell her no one beside her knew that stuff, and that was only because we had been talking everyday and sharing our existence with each other for years by now.

  
  
  


A thoughtful expression appears on her face, so I give her time to think. Then, Lizzie opens her mouth and I see she looks more serious now, her desire to show me why she remembered those things still strong. And so I ask her again, how she knew Landon hadn’t piqued my interest.   
  
  
  


Lizzie starts talking then, and she talks well, with a confident tone not unlike her. She tells me how my eyes would have a different look when I did or talked about something I had enjoyed. How she could tell from my knowing, tired smile that the date had probably been either too boring or had views which didn’t match mine.

  
  
  


I nod my head, impressed at that, and tell her that yes, the date was way too boring for me and Lizzie laughs, saying that she understood I only enjoyed things which made my brain work hard or which made it stop working for a pleasant reason.   
  
  
  


I ask her to elaborate, to which she just shrugs and I know that she wants to say more but is holding herself back, most likely either because it wasn’t the moment or because she was tired. After a moment, though, Lizzie meets my eyes and I see that she is ready to talk. I only lean back and wait to listen to her.

  
  
  


Lizzie tells me that one of the reasons which made us an unstoppable duo with the best chemistry was the fact that we challenged each other to do more and achieve bigger and better things every day,  but also how we could be the reason why we both sometimes would just rest, watching Netflix and laugh at old stories.

  
  
  


If she wanted, she could easily keep my brain on the work, and Lizzie gives an example. She talks about how when she would tell her adventures I would always write as she talked, and how she could so easily let me relax and not think about anything when we would cuddle on the rare days she was on town for more than three hours to meet me, or even on FaceTime, where her voice would sometimes lure me to sleep.

  
  
  


Her explanation catches me off guard, however, after a while I smile and nod my head, making Lizzie give me a smug grin and then take out her water bottle to drink some water, throat probably dry after proving me wrong. I was impressed, and I knew by her smirk that she had seen that.

  
  
  


I tell her how with how well she knows me, there wouldn’t be a single person who would be able to even try to achieve that kind of closeness with me. That makes her grin and reply with “ _ maybe no one deserves that special spot on your heart beside me, Hope.” _

  
  
  


We stare at each other for a while. I take in her glowing skin and smiling, pouty lips and her blue eyes, which are studying my face. My tired face of brown eyes with bags under them and a small bittersweet smile, directed to her.

  
  
  


Lizzie knows I miss her, that I also have been so busy that I had forgotten to take care of myself, but she doesn’t say anything, only says that I should sleep more and that writing could wait. It would do me no good to faint from lack of rest or food after all.

  
  
  


I nod my head at her words and look at the watch on my wrist, which told me the time was 4:30 AM. Lizzie notices and says I should go to sleep, but I roll my eyes and tell her no. Even if we both didn’t say it out loud, keeping it a secret in a way only feelings between two people can be kept, every minute we could talk was as precious as gold for us.

  
  
  


I don’t tell her how I wasn’t able to sleep well because I thought how even if we were both living our high school dreams, my bigger, more secret dream had always been to be happy with her beside me, but now all I had of Lizzie were short visits which I knew she did only so she could see me face to face, and letters and stories where she was my muse.

  
  
  


As if knowing my inner turmoil, Lizzie gives me a sad smile and says that she also had been having trouble sleeping and that she understood my discomfort. But did she really? I wasn’t going to ask, so I just smiled back and told her it was okay, that in a way or another I would fall asleep and maybe even be lucky enough to see her in my dreams.   
  
  
  


That makes Lizzie laugh again. When she says that she wouldn’t mind meeting me in my dreams, seeing we were meeting once in three or two months in reality, I give her another smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.

  
  
  


Lizzie tells me she has to go, and I try not to let my disappointment show, telling her to take care and to take the best pictures she could. Her smile widens and she nods her head, telling me to write as much as I could without overdoing it. Her apprehension makes me smile reassuringly, as if to tell her not to worry about me without actually saying it, and my finger hovers over the red button. I stop quickly when I see her face change and look more nervous, almost like she wants to say something.

  
  
  


I wait but then Lizzie shakes her head and tells me to take care, closing the call before I could tell her the same. I look at my reflection on the dark screen for a moment before getting up and walking towards my balcony, looking at how alive London was at this hour and how unlike me, the city never slept. The energy it radiated, the lights and how every light meant someone was awake and that a story was happening somewhere, made me smile and remember why I had chosen this life for myself.

  
  
  


Lizzie’s special ringtone shakes me out of my thoughts and I walk to my bed again to grab my phone and check it out. I open her message and I smile when I see the sunset, the rays of the sun hidden behind the clouds, it’s light having made the grey clouds orange and violet and glow with a special energy.

  
  
  


_ “Weather may change and sometimes you may not see the sun, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone or shining less. The sun is still an inspiration for everyone and it makes everything look better with just its existence. Thank you for being my sun and helping me look forward to a new day. Even if you aren’t here with me, the fact you exist makes everything more enjoyable. May we meet soon, Hope.” _

  
  
  


Lizzie was never much into writing, preferring to show her emotions by the pictures she took. But time to time she enjoyed writing something sweet for me, only as a way to show that  _ yeah, I miss you and it would be better if I had you here beside me to see these views. _

  
  
  


I smiled through my teary eyes and after some minutes on working on my phone, I walked to my printer and I took the photo. I caress it as I reread her message written underneath it.   
  
  
  


Taking it, I don’t think twice before placing it on the wall next to my bed, where her other photos together with pictures of us were hung. That part of the wall was full of memories, pictures from our old apartment, pictures from when we would go on holidays together. Every memory we had, together with some small poetry of mine, were attached to that wall.

  
  
  


My heart feels somewhat lighter when I lay in my bed, eyes turning to the wall where the newest photo hung. I take my phone and write something, before turning it off and placing it on my nightstand, alarm as always on 6:30 AM.

  
  
  


And on the other side of the world, as I learned days later, Lizzie smiled through her own tears as she read my message and saved it, walking around with my words on her mind and a smile on her lips.

  
  
  


_ “The sun may shine every day but in the end, it’s just a star. You are an entire universe that I wouldn’t mind exploring every day of the future. I love you and may we meet soon, Elizabeth.” _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me more on my twitter @thehopesaltzman


	3. Chapter 3

I see her missed call after the event has finished. As I checked my phone, I saw Lizzie had called around one hour ago. I call her back immediately, waiting for her to pick up. If I was correct, she must have just landed on Heathrow from her flight from Moscow two hours ago. She had told me how she loved the cold and the beauties she had seen there, cities full of people and history and things to see and take pictures of.

  
  


Lizzie opens it after the fourth ring, and she tells me she is waiting at my apartment, and also that she was making dinner even if _I had to do grocery shopping myself Hope, how the fuck don’t you have anything at home beside noodles?_

  
  


Of course, she knew I would have next to nothing on my fridge, after all, she had been the one to do grocery shopping when we lived together. I laugh and tell her to have fun messing up my kitchen until I arrive home. The phone disconnects with her telling me _Fuck off since we both know I’m good at cooking and only shit at baking._

  
  


The event was near my penthouse, so it takes less than 20 minutes to arrive there walking. I preferred walking on evenings like this. I could see how alive London was and how even if we were in the city, the air had a certain coolness which reminded me of Oxford and how every day and night felt like a breath of fresh air.

  
  


However, as soon as I wanted to enter the building, smile on my lips at the doorman, my ears caught the sad bark of what I assumed was a dog.

  
  
  


My eyes widened when I saw at the nearby alley a brown box. As I opened it, I saw where the whining had come from. A small dog, barely bigger than my arm, was sitting inside. He started barking happily when he saw me, which left me on doubt.

  
  


I could easily take him in, because after all the apartment allowed animals, but should I? Then I remember how lonely I used to feel back when my parents had just died, my aunts and Lizzie with Josie and Penelope becoming my only family. Why shouldn’t the dog also have the chance of a good place to live happy at?

  
  


When I open the door, Lizzie greets me from the kitchen and her eyes widen when she sees the dog on my arms. A laugh spills from her lips as she takes in my soft smile and how I was holding the dog like a baby. Lizzie takes him easily from my arms and walks towards the bathroom, only stopping to give me a cheek kiss and tell me to wash my hands at the sink. I do as she says and then I open my phone, trying to find what breed the dog was.

  
  


It turns out to be a pug, and I smile at the adorable pictures which come up. I had forgotten how much I had wanted to have a dog and maybe having one wouldn’t be so bad, especially a cute one like this. Then I searched on what to feed him, and I didn’t hesitate to order some dog food made especially for puppy pugs from the online shop I would sometimes do my grocery shopping from. It was kinda late and I really didn’t want to go out again, and the dog couldn’t exactly be left without being fed.

  
  


Lizzie appears after 15 minutes, and my smile grows fonder as I look at the small puppy wrapped with a white towel, his face looking at me but also leaning towards her hand which was petting him. Lizzie lets him down gently, and I see how he runs around, excited to be in a new space.

  
  


Lizzie and I move to the kitchen, where I see two empty plates. She moves to check on what I see are the tagliatelle and seafood, basically my favorite food. Back in our university days, there would be times when I would come stressed from school and she would cook us these. I never understood how she knew, but all I knew was that I would come stressed and I would be greeted with the tasty food and her smile.

  
  


As Lizzie cooks, I slowly hug her from behind, my chin falling on her shoulder as I stand on my tiptoes, my gaze following the movements of her hands. She tells me to grab the salt, which I only have to reach without moving away from the embrace. I ask her how the trip went, and Lizzie doesn’t hesitate to tell me about it, speaking in a soft voice as I swayed us gently on place. Now my lips rested on the soft skin of the space between her shoulder and neck, humming against her skin to show I was listening to her.

  
  


As always, it had been a good trip and she had enjoyed every second of it. Moscow was cold but Lizzie hadn’t minded much, happy to wear her favorite heavy coats. She doesn’t miss the chance to tell me the set of gloves and hat I had made myself for her had kept her warm, something which makes me chuckle against her skin, murmuring that it was probably her hotness which had kept her warm. I only receive a roll of eyes as a reply.

  
  


Lizzie continues to tell me about how beautiful the city looked at night, and how her pictures seemed to glow and how it had sometimes annoyed her that she hadn’t been able to catch the whole magic of the city. She had been out for hours, and yet she had only managed to capture a part of the beauty. I assured her that it wasn’t her fault, that sometimes the full real beauty could only be seen there and not be captured by the camera.

  
  


I had to break the embrace to let her put the pasta on the pan with the seafood and then on our plates. As I took the plates, Lizzie moved to open my balcony door, placing the beer bottles on the table, then lowering herself to open the door for the pug, who chooses to sit at her feet.

  
  


Lizzie continues talking and I continue listening to her voice. Her voice had always been soothing for me, the perfect combination of deep and soft, able to both get my attention in any situation but also lure me to calmness just as easily. And now, as she spoke of the seagulls which would fly across the river and the couples who would stand still on the sidewalk to look at them, smiles full of love on their lips as they would kiss after enjoying the view and then start walking again, I felt even calmer by her voice.

  
  


However, when she stops, a thoughtful look on her face, I ask her about it after swallowing my bite. Smiling at how easily I could read her, Lizzie tells me she had loved the atmosphere and the pictures she had taken, but she hadn’t felt the usual pleasure she felt after an enjoyable trip. I bit my lip and told her that maybe she hadn’t really connected with the city, to which she takes a moment to nod her head to, continuing to eat with a small smile on her face.

  
  


We eat in silence for a while, our eyes looking at the beautiful view but also at each other, smiling anytime our eyes would meet. It felt domestic and warm and soft, something which we had missed in the month she had been away. Even if we loved our jobs, we still loved this more. This calmness, this happiness and this peace spending time with each other gave us.

  
  


When we finish, she is the one to grab the plates and get up, saying that it was her turn to do dishes, seeing that last time I had been the one to cook and clean. The doorbell rings then, and I know it’s the food, so I walk towards the door and open it, taking the big package of dog food and smiling before wishing the delivery man a good night. I take a plate from the kitchen and put some food there, taking it to the puppy who barks happily and starts eating as soon as I place the plate down on the ground.

  
  


But then I look towards her and the wish to spend as much time as I can with Lizzie takes over. So I find myself walking once again towards her and hugging her from behind as she washed the dishes. I don’t surprise her, Lizzie only raises her elbows so I can wrap my arms around her better.

  
  


Nothing makes a sound except the water hitting the plates and it is soothing in its own way, filling up the silence between us. As Lizzie finishes, and after she dries her hand in the towel there, we just stand like that. A sigh escapes her, which makes me worry and my hands find hers on her stomach, interlacing our fingers together.

  
  


I ask her what’s wrong, but she doesn’t immediately reply, so I just leave soft kisses on her neck and shoulder, something which I know calms her down and also comforts her. After some minutes, she tells me how tired she was and how even if she loved capturing the moments she loved, how looking at the sunset and taking a picture of it was one of the things she enjoyed doing, now it had just made her melancholic.

  
  


A small sad smile graces my lips, and I tell her that it’s the pain of achieving your dream alone. That sometimes we had to sacrifice some things to reach some others. Lizzie had achieved her goal of traveling around and being one of the best photographers, but I didn’t need to say it out loud to let her know what she had lost with achieving that.

  
  


My answer relaxes her a bit, so I make her turn around and she hugs me, her lips resting on my head as mine rest on her collarbone. I hold her and I don’t need to think much to know that that’s what Lizzie needed on those moments. For someone to hold her and remind her that just because she traveled the world alone and was a successful photographer, she was still human and most of all she wasn’t alone.

  
  


I whisper to her that it was okay to feel this way and that if it would make her feel better, I would hold her tonight until she would feel better. Lizzie smiles and nods her head, so I take her hand and lead her towards my bedroom. We don’t change, both too tired to do that, and we both would be spending the next morning here at home, so it wouldn’t matter much.

  
  


She settles on her favorite position, head on my chest to hear my heartbeat and my arms around her, one caressing her head and the other on her waist, lacing our hands together. We laid in silence until she says she is grateful for me understanding her so good and being there for her. That makes me smile and kiss her head and tell her I would always be there for her, the person to remind her that she had someone who cared for her no matter how far away or alone she would be or feel.

  
  


I feel her kiss my neck and tighten the hold on my hand. I don’t reply and only continue to hold her, letting out a chuckle as the puppy walks in and finds a way to climb over, laying on the end of the bed. Lizzie smiles and tells me that at least I had found someone who loved sharing personal space like I did, making me roll my eyes.

  
  


It’s around 3 am and I wake up with a light kiss on my cheek, my eyes fluttering open and seeing her face, her eyes staring deep into mine. I try to rub the sleep from my eyes and focus on her, which I do quite easily. Lizzie tells me she had been awake and looking at me all this time, unable to fall asleep. I smile and after I make her lay on her side, I move my arm under her pillow and wrap an arm around her waist, bringing us face to face. And then I start whispering her a story, our story. I start with our high school days, with our best memories and I see that after ten minutes she had fallen asleep, a calm expression on her face.

  
  


I lean to kiss her forehead, whispering good night and that I loved her. But little did she know I saw the smile on her lips before I once again fell asleep.

  
  


When I woke up, she was still asleep and so I used that time to get up and make us some breakfast. I knew that her loneliness was bothering her, like dark clouds on her head, so I decided to make sure she felt as much loved as I felt anytime I would see her pictures on my email. Or when I would check out the book she would leave here before her next trip and how there were small writings on the pages, related to how she felt about the book or its passages or related to me.

  
  


Lizzie wakes up as soon as I had put the food on the plates, and I smile when I see her wearing my old university hoodie, giving me a small cheek kiss before taking her plate and sitting on the couch. I smiled and sat beside her, both starting to eat like we hadn’t eaten in ages, in silence, and with large bites.

  
  


I think that us like that, me still wearing my last night clothes and her wearing my clothes and eating together, gave her the peace she had been missing all this time. Maybe that had reminded her that no matter how beautiful Moscow was, no matter how lonely she would feel when she would visit another city, she had a home here.  A home which would be always here no matter where she went.

  
  


And when I saw her smile, all anxiety of last night gone, I knew I had achieved my mission. I tell her that, and she smiles softly to me, telling me that of course, I had made her happy as I always would. Her hand moves to rest on my cheek, and I lean against her touch with a small smile before she drops her hand and laughs as she sets her plate aside and takes the puppy on her arms.

  
  


I found myself laughing with her, and happy. Happier than I had been in days maybe. Happy that I had her and happy that she was happy. Perhaps that said how connected we were, how intertwined our souls were with each other. As I met her eyes I knew that deep down, she also knew that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last final chap peeps!! thank u so much for reading it and i hope u loved this as much as i did!! can't wait to see ur reactions or write more so u all can enjoy ur hizzie meals!

It’s the night when I turn 25 and I find myself sitting on my balcony. It’s quite a perfect night, the stars hanging in the sky and the moon being the only sources of light. I had opted to turn off every artificial light in the house and spend my time outside. It wasn’t like I was dying to celebrate my birthday. Years had passed since birthdays and their celebration were important to me.

  
  
  


It probably had to do with the fact that this year, unlike all the others where Lizzie always managed to be here with me, she was stuck in Chile. She had a heartbroken look on her face when she told me that. I didn’t show my disappointment much, only smiled sadly and told her that it was okay and that we would be able to celebrate later. After all, it wasn’t like I was going to disappear. I was always here. 

  
  
  


I never wanted to make her choose between me and her future as a photographer. Even when we had our big fight after we got out of university, I told her that she shouldn’t choose me over her future, that her love for photography mattered more than being stuck here in London with me. 

  
  
  


We cried a lot that night, Lizzie trying to make me tell her to stay with me, to tell her everything would be okay even if she stayed. But I never did. I wouldn’t do that to us, to  _ her _ . I wouldn’t cut off her wings and chance to make her dream true just because of my feelings.

  
  
  


Lizzie left our shared apartment that night. It was only two days before my 19th birthday. We didn’t talk during those two days. Then, as soon as the clock ticked to 00:00, she came to our apartment and told me she had bought a ticket to France for the next day.

  
  
  


I didn’t ask her where she had spent the other nights, or why she had decided to leave. I only smiled and told her it was the wisest choice, that later on, she would thank me for not making her stay, no matter how much it hurt her now. I remember we spent those ten hours only talking about our fondest memories, and then towards the end only in silence, Lizzie wrapped in my arms, before we had to get up to get her clothes ready.

  
  
  


We spent half an hour hugging at the doorstep. We cried, Lizzie mostly, but I saw how her shoulder looked darker from my tears as I broke our embrace. Before I closed the door, she gave me a certain look which I wouldn’t be able to forget even if I got amnesia. Her ocean blue eyes were begging me, a last resort to make her stay, but I shook my head, tears on my eyes and my heart shattering in pieces.

  
  
  


I didn’t know who was hurting more, her for leaving, or me, for not allowing myself to make her stay.

  
  
  


Then, she took a step in and her hand went to my cheek, her thumb wiping my tears before her lips touched mine. If I was asked to describe that kiss, I would only use three words,  _ too many emotions _ . Her lips tasted salty from our combined tears still rolling down our cheeks. And they were soft. God, they were the softest damn thing I had ever touched in my 19 years of life. 

  
  
  


But it was a kiss of goodbye, a kiss of desperation and sadness, and the whole atmosphere was depressing and even if I wanted to enjoy it, the fact remained that Lizzie was going to leave. Was going to leave this apartment, this country,  _ me _ . When the kiss ended, she looked at me once before she turned and grabbed her bag, leaving me standing on my doorstep and watching her go.

  
  
  


Lizzie never turned her head back. I’m grateful she didn’t because I knew if she did I would yell at her to stay. My palms were dripping blood from my nails digging in them, only so I wouldn’t run after her and bring her back. I stood there until she disappeared from the hallway, making me close the door and fall on the floor, crying on my arms.

  
  
  


I remember that being the saddest birthday I have ever had, equal in sorrow to the first birthday I had without my parents. That was also the time when birthdays started becoming uninteresting for me, a person who valued their celebration as much as someone could.

  
  
  


Lizzie never wrote during that trip, only once when she told me she would stay for another month. Meanwhile, I had just gained more popularity after the release of my poetry book, having saved enough money on the side to buy the apartment I lived in alone now with my own money. When I told her, a sad smile appeared on her lips and she nodded her head, saying that it was about time that I also moved towards my own dreams. It never felt good to hear her say that, and I can only imagine that she also felt that sense of sadness.

  
  
  


That apartment was our first home, where I got my first letter from a publishing company, where she got her first internship as a photographer. That apartment was where our fondest memories were created and to let it go felt like we were cutting the last ties which connected us to our shared past.

  
  
  


But now years had passed since then. We both had grown, and both appreciated how our dreams had come true, and the day where she thanked me had, of course, come as I had predicted, even if she told me she still felt a bit of hate towards me from letting her go without a fight. I had smiled and told her the worst fight happened on my mind and heart, and that for once I had let my mind decide, and not my heart.

  
  
  


Years of growth left us here, two adults with flourishing careers and who even after these years, still had each other. We hadn’t said a word about it, but we both knew this apartment I lived now was just as much hers as it was mine. Her having a spare key and also her own room and clothes here made that clear.

  
  
  


All that time of growth and memories brought me here, with a bottle of pear juice on the table and laptop open to play some old jazz songs which always helped my creativity flow. Even if alone, I still felt calm, a calmness which also came from the fact my Twitter and Instagram were flooding with messages and tags from fans, to which I had replied with a heartfelt message of my own.

  
  
  


I heard the clicking of the door before I saw it open. My eyes widened since it was a sound only a certain key made when it opened the door, and from what I knew and saw two hours ago, that key was on the other side of the planet.

  
  
  
  


It seemed I was proven wrong, because suddenly I was standing face to face with Lizzie, her traveling bag over her shoulder and a brown bag on her arm. She was wearing my red leather jacket that I had given to her the last time she was here, and a white shirt underneath it, together with blue jeans. To my eyes, she seemed just as beautiful as she would look if she had taken her sweet time to dress up. Embarrassment came over me as I felt tears fill my eyes, and her gaze left mine only to lock the door and place her bags on the ground before she stood directly in front of me.

  
  
  


Her arms wrapped around me, and that’s when I started crying softly, my eyes shut and head on her shoulder, arms around her body. I felt her smile against my head and lay a soft kiss there, knowing that even if I said I didn’t care about birthdays, that even if I tried to put my feelings aside, I had needed her here tonight. 

  
  
  


It seemed that Lizzie knew this, which didn’t surprise me much. Sometimes it scared me how much she knew about me and how I worked and thought. But that was the thing about closeness and trust, sometimes you got scared by it and how you would willingly open your entire heart to another person. And I had not only opened myself to Lizzie, but I had also given her a part of me, a part so important that only she could have.

  
  
  


When we break our embrace, Lizzie tells me she had planned to surprise me, and that even if hell froze over she wouldn’t miss my birthday. I smile and grab her bag to take it to her room, and she lets me go, knowing I needed some time to compose myself. Which I was glad for having since I wasn’t as emotional as I was ten minutes ago when I walked to the kitchen.

  
  
  


Lizzie had bought one of my favorite foods, pizza with fries and sausages, together with what made me feel even more emotional inside, my favorite brand of pear juice which I hadn’t had for a year, only because it wasn’t available here. She tells me she had to make a small stop on Italy to buy it, and the thought that she hadn’t hesitated flying more hours only to buy me this and the fact she remembered, makes me hug her again, leaving kisses on her neck, which was my own way of showing her how touched I was without talking.

  
  
  


We grab the food and walk outside, her smiling at the half-finished bottle of pear juice, before grabbing it and taking it inside, leaving the bottle she bought outside. Lizzie returned with a beer on her hand which she let beside her own pizza. I had already opened the pizzas, so as usual, I ask her the same question I asked her every time she returned here.

  
  
  


So Lizzie starts. She tells me how she had only traveled the seaside and how the sun shone on most of the days she was there. How the first sunset had made her cry from emotions, how she had wished I was there with her, only so she could see my face when I would sit on the sand and write on my laptop. I smiled at her and told her that if I was there I would probably write later and spend my time looking at the sea which would shine red from the rays of the sun and at the happiness which would reflect on her face.

  
  
  


Lizzie’s smile only widened but then she started talking again. I was surprised by how much her thoughts had been related to me on this trip. She told me how when she had woken up yesterday, she had felt like I was there, only realizing it had been the fact that she was wearing my shirt which had given her the illusion of my presence. Then she said how when she had taken photos of a nearby waterfall she had thought how I would have loved to dive there and see the life underwater.

  
  
  


My mind swam with thoughts as Lizzie continued talking. Why was I on her mind so much? Why did her eyes become softer when she talked about how something had reminded her of me? I placed those thoughts aside, knowing my sleepless nights were going to be enough time for me to think about them. But as for now, I only smiled and asked her about the places, small details like the weather or how the air smelled when she stood in the middle of the woods or when she was standing by the sea, braced against the wind.

  
  
  


Without even me noticing, we had finished our pizza. I got up to take the things to the trash can, and I saw she also stood up and went towards her room. Knowing she would join me, I went outside again and sat on my own seat. Lizzie returned moments later, her expression nervous as she held what looked like a book on her hands. My curious expression must have given me away, since she smiled and moved to sit on my lap, my arms wrapping around her waist without me even thinking about it. She gives it to me, and I only smile before I take it, discovering that it is an album.

  
  
  


I open to the first page, and I read the words there. “ _ To my sun and home. A passage to the past for your curious mind _ .” I looked at her shocked and Lizzie only smiled, urging me to check it out fully.

  
  
  


My eyes widened as I saw the first page. I saw myself, years younger and laying on my bed, laptop on my lap as the rays of the sun fell over me, a soft smile on my lips and from I could guess, not knowing of the photo being taken.

  
  
  


_ “The day I decided that photography mattered to capture the most important moments and to have them with you anytime.” _ I touched the photo gently and continued to the other one, my other hand interlocking with hers.

  
  
  


Now I was cooking, a grin on my lips and an uncooked pizza in my hands, eyes focused on it as I tried to balance.  _ “The day you decided to cook me pizza by yourself when I was on my period and when I realized how much my happiness meant to you.” _ Both pics were when we were 18, in our first year of university.

  
  
  


I turned the page and my eyes didn’t dare move from the photos, too focused on them. This was like a passage through Lizzie’s mind, through her heart. The same way that my writing gave her a look into my soul, now her photos and this album gave me not only a look but a whole adventure through her years and how she thought of me.

  
  
  


At the next photo, I was asleep, head tucked on the pillow and the sheets on my waist. The photo was taken from above the end of the bed, which let me know it was one of the nights we had fallen asleep together.  _ “When I discovered no sunset or sea would give me the peace your sleeping face gave me.” _

  
  
  
  


The pictures continued like that, memories of small moments which I couldn’t even remember until I saw them here, moments which, from what I could see, she remembered perfectly through these photos.

  
  
  


The last photo made me freeze, my finger gracing it gently like it was glass that would break with the slightest touch. I was sitting in this exact same spot, and unlike others, this one was a Polaroid. A sheet was wrapped around my naked body, and my hand was on my hair, the other holding my glasses, my eyes closed and my complete posture relaxed. 

  
  
  


The caption was repeating on my mind as my eyes stared at it.  _ “The exact moment I wanted to freeze time forever, since I realized that if the sun was the center of this universe, then you were the sun to mine.” _

  
  
  


When I raised my head, her eyes were staring into mine, her arms around my neck and caressing my hair, a soft smile on her lips and I could see on her eyes how she was trying to read my expression.

  
  
  


Lizzie had given me a piece of herself, something I had tried for years to have a look at. I had seen how and what she thought about me, something which always was a part mystery and part always known to me. Her feelings for me always reminded me of the ocean. You could see all and you knew it was there, but you could never know how deep or how big it actually was.

  
  
  
  


The first time we kissed we were 19 and crying and heartbroken from trying to follow our dreams and choosing to leave each other. Now, I was an accomplished writer and her a famous photographer and 25. But still, even 6 years later, her embrace was still just as soft.

  
  
  


Then, we felt desperation and sadness, but now all we felt was calmness and happiness which came with feeling and being complete. And as Lizzie leaned in to kiss me, only one thought was on my mind. 

  
  
  


Her lips were still the softest thing in this goddamn world, and she still felt like peace and sunshine in my arms.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi gays,,,, this is smth i found on my archieve so i decided to finish it and post it! ocean eyes remains one of my favorite hizzie fics of my own bcs of how poetic i get here,,, and its the last work i wrote while i was in LOVE love so yeah,,, i hope u enjoy this ending to their story here and that i did them justice! i love u gays and please please COMMENT AND KUDO

Coming home after a long day and finding it with lights on and all warmed up, especially during winter days like this one, would always be the best feeling in the world. After taking off my boots, I slip on the red and blue socks Lizzie had made for me when she was learning how to knit, enjoying their soft material against my feet.

 

I walk into the living room, and my smile widens when my trusty pug, Jake, runs towards me, his happy bark making me take him in my arms and nuzzle my nose into his soft head. I look towards the couch and see Lizzie, surveying the scene before her with a soft smile. Her eyes meet mine as she gets up, and I set Jake on the ground before hugging her, my arms bringing her closer and enjoying her warmth.

 

Lizzie breaks the embrace and tells me to go sit on the couch, which I do and see as she moves to the kitchen, returning with a mug and giving it to me. The smell makes me smile, the hot chocolate warming my cold hands. I grin and drink it slowly, and Lizzie plops down beside me. She busies herself as I sip, setting her laptop on her lap from the table.

 

I see she’s looking through the photographs from her last trip to Barcelona. She’d returned yesterday, and I wasn’t surprised to see she was already working again. I look at the pictures, not talking much, but watching as Lizzie would save the pictures she thought were worthy enough and delete the ones that could be better.

 

The silence between us was only broken by the occasional sips I took and the soft music I had playing from my phone, only so I could see Lizzie smile from the cheesy Christmas songs we both secretly loved. Tomorrow was Christmas, it was only fitting that I put on some good music now.

 

Lizzie turns to face me and asks if I thought the photos looked good. Being honest, I tell her that they looked amazing, however, some of them would look even better with a black and white filter. 

 

Her blue eyes glint from the suggestion and she kisses my cheek before going through the photos once again, using the filter on those she thought would look even better with it.

 

We pass an hour like that, and the urge to work starts to get to me, so I also decide to get my own laptop to start writing my newest article about the donation made for the opening of a new orphanage. The benefactor was a close friend of mine, and she was my lover for some time until we broke up on friendly terms. She had given me the opportunity to be the first to get an interview from her, which I had thanked her for and made sure to ask the best questions I could.

 

I saw from the corner of my eye as Lizzie closed her laptop and placed it on the coffee table before leaning her head against my shoulder and looking at the article. I hear her snicker after she reads the name out loud, and I could only roll my eyes at that and continue writing. I was waiting, knowing that she would ask questions about why I was the one doing the interview, when I could have easily given it to another reporter to do it.

 

Not five minutes later, Lizzie asks exactly that and I laugh, giving her a soft look before returning to write. I tell her that she had wanted me to do that interview, seeing she felt more comfortable being interviewed by a friend. I don’t lose the opportunity to say that she thought I was the best fit for writing a great article.

 

Lizzie tells me that maybe she would also ask me to go for a private interview over a candlelit dinner, which makes me chuckle and tell her that  _ no, Liz, even if we were romantic in the past, that doesn’t mean we still are _ . She gives me one last look before agreeing with me and my words.

 

After finishing half of the article, I close my laptop and saw that Lizzie had fallen asleep, mouth slightly open and her face peaceful, making me smile softly. We remain like that, only raising my arm so her head leaned on my shoulder, wrapping my arm around her. Even in her sleep, Lizzie sighed happily and snuggled closer, leaving me in my own thoughts.

 

It was funny how our relationship was. We could be away from each other for, and yet, when there was a holiday, Lizzie would always find a way to be here, at my apartment, or, rather,  _ our _ home. It was something that never changed from our university days, and which still hadn’t changed now. 

 

I close my eyes and lean my head against hers, thinking about how our ways of celebrating had changed.

 

On our first Christmas, back when we were 18 and freshmen, we had just gotten our first internships. That called for celebrations, and if anyone loved to celebrate anything between the two of us, that was Lizzie.

 

 I bought the beer and she bought the food. At first, we were going to cook, but seeing it was just the two of us, we decided to keep it simple and just buy some take out, pasta from our favorite restaurant at the time.

 

We drank and ate and talked about our accomplishments, and also our future. Then, before I could move to my bed to sleep, Lizzie held a mistletoe over our heads and gave me a soft kiss, telling me that  _ we can’t break the holy tradition.  _

 

At the time I remember smiling and just agreeing with her, accepting the kiss with no complaint.

 

Next year, we had gotten our own jobs, so we stepped up the game. We went out to our favorite club and had a drink there, enjoying our time until late at night, a light blanket was thrown over our shoulders, our fingers laced.

 

 When we returned home, I simply fell on my own bed, still with my clothes on and eyes closed. I didn’t open my eyes as I felt Lizzie mutter about not breaking the tradition.

 

I only opened my eyes after her lips touched mine and she leaned back, our eyes locked together, peaceful and calm.

 

It would be the last Christmas kiss where our eyes would show that peacefulness.

 

Next year had been different. We finished university and she left for France, and from how we didn’t talk on her time there, I had simply thought that yes, this year would be spent alone drinking beer and looking from the window. But as soon as the clock showed 00:00, the doorbell rang.

 

I opened the door to find a tired Lizzie with an equally tired smile, who could only manage to place the take out bags in the table before turning to hug me. I never told her how my heart ached from how much I missed her.

 

She would be leaving again after four hours, only coming there to celebrate and spend some time with me. After three hours, I was leaning against my door and she leaned towards me. Her lips tasted like the champagne we drank and she broke the kiss only for a moment, muttering something about not breaking the tradition.

 

The other Christmases were spent the same way, her being in London for some hours or a day and then leaving and giving me the traditional kiss. We didn’t speak about the kisses, and we both were okay with that. Our relationship was special and all these years, we never felt the need to talk about it. 

 

Lizzie wakes up muttering that I was thinking too loudly, which makes me smile and shake my head in amusement. We both stretch and I tell her I would go to make us something to eat. I do that easily and then I start getting the table ready, Lizzie choosing to sit by the counter beside me, still a little sleepy from her nap.

 

I cook in peaceful silence, her leg sometimes touching my arm and making me laugh, my smile contagious for her. As I waited for the food to be done, I leaned beside where she was sitting at, and I let her move me until I was left standing between Lizzie's legs. 

 

My hands went to her hips and I laid my head on her chest, my nose nuzzling her neck and I felt warm as I heard her soft giggle. I closed my eyes and hummed as Lizzie scratched my scalp gently, running her fingers through my hair slowly.

 

It felt too much like home, more than this apartment.

 

We spend some time like that until I saw that the time for the food to be made had passed. I only turned the stove off and turned my body towards Lizzie again, her legs still wrapped around my waist. I smiled at her and her eyes softened while looking at me, her hands caressing my cheeks and my ocean eyes meeting hers.

 

_ You look tired.  _ Lizzie’s voice is in a whisper and it feels like we are in our own bubble there. I nod my head, work had been tiring and writing was being kind of a bitch for me. I wasn’t surprised she had noticed.

 

_ Make us coffee when we finish eating.  _ I lean my forehead against hers, glad that this time I could do it without going on my tiptoes. Lizzie’s hands on my cheeks move to my neck and she caresses the skin there softly. It’s too warm, a touch I missed in the days I was without her.

 

_ Two sugars, no cream right?  _ I laugh softly and nod my head, hands tightening in her hips. Of course, who else beside Lizzie Saltzman could be smart enough to remember my coffee order?

 

_ You are the only sweet cream I need in my life, so yes.  _ My joke receives a loud laugh, and I have to admit, no matter how bad it was, I didn’t care. I had made her laugh and that’s all I wanted to see.

 

_ God, Mikaelson, just go put our food on the table before I start calling you a failed teenage boy. _

 

Getting away from her embrace is something I don’t like, but I do so for a greater cause. Something which I say out loud and I only receive an eye roll. The food is warm and smells amazing as I take it outside.

 

I’m glad it isn’t snowing, the outside heater keeping us warm as Lizzie joins me. I see as she has her camera on hand, snapping a few pictures before setting it down. We eat in silence mostly, enjoying the rice and sneaking a smile when we would drink.

 

After we finish, I take our plates to the kitchen and I hear how she is moving things outside. Curious, I return and my eyes widen when I see Lizzie throwing petals around from her camera bag and taking out a small recorder.

 

_ Let’s dance, shall we? _

 

I take her hand in mine, fingers lacing and fitting like puzzle pieces against one another. My eyes meet hers and I play with the hair in her neck gently, enjoying the light Christmas piano music.

 

This felt too much like home, if home could be a feeling.

 

I used to think I loved the concept of home, rather than the feeling. A place to rest, to find yourself again, to gather your energies and to feel comfortable. When my parents died, so did my hopes of ever thinking that home was an emotion you felt in your heart.

 

But then Lizzie appeared. Lizzie with her wide smile and glinting eyes who didn’t care about my walls, who didn’t care of making a good first impression. Lizzie who made me laugh when I was crying from the stress of the exams. Lizzie who grew with me and grew apart from me. 

 

I think that’s when I started realizing it was okay to let people in. Until then, all I cared about was writing and writing more until the late nights. I filled countless pages with the pain in my heart until Lizzie came along. Then, slowly, those pages became about coffees with two sugars and no cream, of golden hair against blue sheets, of gold and ocean eyes.

 

_ Your mind is being so loud it’s disturbing our dance.  _ Lizzie, oh Lizzie, with your replies which are laced with the concern you feel but hate showing.

 

I feel like kissing her then. With the fairy lights, I hung myself that morning and with jazz music playing on the background. I want to kiss her, feel her soft lips against mine and break our Christmas with mistletoe kiss tradition. 

 

_ Is it bad luck if I break tradition?  _ I know she gets what I mean, that even if I wouldn’t talk she would understand. Lizzie smirks, her hand on my waist sliding on my back. There is comfort in her eyes, a softness I had missed seeing.

 

_ When have you ever cared for the odds of luck, Hope? _

 

I feel like kissing her then, and I do so. I pull her closer, my lips meet hers and it suddenly feels like everything and nothing, like the beginning of time and the end of it. 

 

Lizzie is soft against me, warm and solid and it feels the opposite of every Christmas kiss. It’s the first one I initiated, the first one where Lizzie doesn’t feel like a miracle which makes itself known only at this time of the year.

 

We kiss and I feel complete, the puzzle pieces fall in their places, the lines arrange themselves in a story of ages. Lizzie pulls away for a moment, lips almost touching mine and smiling.

 

_ Is this my present since you forgot to buy me one again?  _ Laughter spills from my lips the same way my love for her does, without shame and without restraint. I kiss her again, kiss her until we are warm by our kisses and until we lose our breaths and find each other.

 

_ You wound me, Liz. Isn’t my presence enough of a gift?  _ My teasing makes her roll her eyes and I let her drag me inside. She walks us to the kitchen, where Lizzie opens a drawer and I’m not surprised to see her take out a mistletoe.

 

We stare at it for a moment, the green and red clashing against Lizzie’s pale hand. I’m the one to move, taking it and throwing it on my sink, Lizzie’s eyes meeting mine when I raise my head.

 

_ Be mine. _

 

My own words surprise even me. Lizzie’s face doesn’t change though, frowning in deep thoughts as she tried to read my eyes. I was never the person to talk about feelings, never the first one to make the first move. I had let her take control of how our relationship continued, feeling okay with just  _ being  _ with Lizzie. And for me to say this, it was surprising.

 

Things could change. Things could be different. The future is scary when you finally make a step to what you want.

 

_ Haven’t I always been yours, Hope?  _ Lizzie moves a strand of my hair behind my ear, resting her hand on my cheek. There was something calming about looking at her face, even if I had said something which would change years of what we had.

 

_ Remember what I told you? Back when you missed your parents and you were too in pain and inside your beautiful head to show it? _

 

My eyes widen, feeling 18 again. I remember it quite clearly, the first memory I had of me and Lizzie. The first important memory where I realized what I felt for Lizzie could become something deeper, something life-changing.

 

_ That you are with me?  _ I know I didn’t say it right when she laughs, but my mind was too tired to even remember correctly. But I did make her laugh, so that was a plus.

 

_ Mikaelson, I’m starting to think your brain cells have died. But no, it wasn’t that.  _ Lizzie stops for a moment, thumb caressing my bottom lip and fingers tapping on my neck. 

 

_ We are in this till the bitter end. You asking this was kind of late, have to admit, but something in us knew back then and something in us will always know. Love doesn’t need a title for it to be real, Hope. But to make it official and let your poor heart rest in peace, yes, I’ll be yours. _

 

When she kissed me on our first Christmas, we were two kids with too big dreams and who hadn’t realized the future awaiting them.

 

When she kisses me now, we are one and the same, two adults who are complete but chose each other. 

 

Back then we needed each other, it’s why in the end we left each other, when that need stopped. Now we  _ want  _ each other, want to be together and want to exist as we always have. 

 

Back then it was a need, now it’s a choice.

 

_ I can’t believe you became the writer now, Liz. Who could have thought you could be emotional with words too and not just pictures?  _ The pinch I get in my arm is worth it, both of us laughing as I lean against her body.

 

_ Be careful or I’ll steal your spotlight this way. But what can I say, your ass makes me poetic and all.  _

 

I smile and kiss her again. I kiss her again in hopes that she understands how I feel, that she understands why my hands shake this much when I wrap them around her. 

 

_ I love you, Hope.  _ My breath shakes against her neck, tightening the hug and smiling even if tears roll down my cheeks. 

 

This time it felt different, it felt more meaningful, as if Lizzie was finally letting her feelings go and run free.

 

It felt like the end of a chapter of our lives. But most importantly, it was the start of a new one, full of new things and feelings and experiences. All which I couldn’t wait to experience with her, with my one true love.

 

_ I love you too, Lizzie. Always and forever.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me more on my twitter @thehopesaltzman

**Author's Note:**

> tell me more or talk with me on my twitter @thehopesaltzman


End file.
